


Sink In

by orphan_account



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Innocent Bystander!Gavin, M/M, Slow Burn, vampire!Ryan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-04 20:10:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12778587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Gavin Free wants nothing more than to finish his movie shoot. Ryan Haywood thinks being a vampire isn't all its cracked up to be. Things take a drastic turn when Gavin ends up somewhere he's not supposed to be, and Ryan's interrupted during a kill.Inspired by the post, "vampires always like “i could kill you if I wanted” like? yeah? so could another human being. so could a dog. so could a dedicated duck. you arent special"





	1. Chapter One

Gavin knew full well how dangerous this side of town could be; there were dozens of stories a month of people getting stabbed or worse, in the dim lit alleys of a city at sleep. But his film shoot had gone longer than he’d anticipated, and some places just couldn’t be avoided. Fortunately, he was more than prepared for the long trek back to his hotel; a knife in his bag, and a lifetime full of running was more than enough protection from the monsters lurking in the dark.

Still, he had to admit that the drinking blood part had thrown him for a loop.

His own blood ran cold. Try as he might to have chalked the scene off to exhaustion, there was no denying the sight. A man, blond and tall, had his teeth sunk into the neck of the spasming corpse of a young woman; and the blood coated everything. There was no end to the red as it soaked into their clothing - and maybe Gavin might have been able to slink away if his blasted gag reflex hadn’t chosen a horrible time to rear its nasty head.

Blue eyes flashed dangerously at the sudden intrusion, the corpse falling to the ground with a wet slap, and damn it, he was gagging again - Through his horrid coughing, Gavin turned to flee, fear swelling in his throat amidst the nausea. But the man -- vampire? That couldn’t be right, they didn’t exist. Must’ve been a psychopath with a literal taste for blood -- He stepped forward, palms raised in a placating gesture.

“Stop. I’m not going to kill you. Not if you keep the police out of it, and pretend you didn’t see any of this. And I could kill you, if I wanted, so you’d better keep that in mind.”

Gavin stopped in his tracks, fist over his mouth as he fought down another wave of coughs. He should have been screaming for help, or running for his life-- since, despite the calm tone with which the man spoke, Gavin supposed his words weren’t entirely false. But his heart was still racing, and he couldn’t quite look at the corpse without another wave of nausea washing over him, and keeping that under control was debilitating enough, so he chose to meet this -quite possible- serial killer in the eyes.

“Well… That’s not really all that impressive, is it?”

Leave it to Gavin Free to make an unintentionally snarky comment in the face of potential death; nervously so, with his fingers quaking. By some stroke of luck, the absolute-not-a-vampire didn’t seem to turn murderous at the insult -- if anything, he seemed quite offended.

“Excuse me?” He asked, voice low, brow quirked. “You saw what I was doing. You don’t think this is impressive?”

Gavin swallowed nervously, a timid grin splitting his lips as he debated the best way to get out of there alive. “I just mean, it’s not like you’re the only one who could kill me. Killing is pretty easy, innit? Just chuck a knife at their head. Anyone could do that. But if you’re not going to kill me, am I free to leave?”

The bastard was smirking, and if Gavin wasn’t going to shite his pants before, he might very well now. He had about three seconds before he took off running, his reserves of bravery spent. That smirk didn’t bode well (mind you, neither did the body, or the blood still staining this man’s face), and Gavin’s teeth began to chatter.

“I guess it’s not that hard. I could kill you slowly, draining you of blood while I hang you from your toes. Is that impressive?”

“Sounds bloody psychotic. Again - if you’re not going to kill me, can I take up that offer of pretending I never saw anything?”

The man took a step forward, and Gavin skittered backwards, fight or flight response kicking heavy into flight mode. Maybe his nervous, defensive chatting had gone too far, and this vampire-inspired maniac would change his mind on killing him. He wasn’t sure whether to humour the man for a few more seconds, or take his chances with running.

“You don’t want an explanation?”

Gavin shook his head, pupils blown wide with fear. “I’m not going to say anything. S’probably better if I don’t ask questions, then. Y-you do whatever you like, you’re not gonna hear a peep out of me. I’m going to leave.”

He wasn’t sure where that last wave of bravado had come from, but before the vampire-wannabe could say anything further, Gavin turned tail and sprinted down the road. His lungs threatened to burst, but his stampede didn’t end until he was safely inside his hotel.

Gavin reached for his wallet, fingers trembling so bad he couldn’t get a grip on it. And -- wait, his wallet wasn’t in his bloody pockets at all. He pissed around with his pockets for several long minutes, hoping beyond hope that he was just a minor idiot, not a major idiot; one who had left his _smegging_ wallet, with his ID, keycard, and personal information at the site of a crime, and in the presence of a vampire-themed serial killer.

No, surely he wasn’t that much of an idiot.

But the wallet wasn’t there, and if his heart hadn’t been racing before, it sure was now. The killer would have his name, his address, and access to all his personal information. 

“Gavin, you bloody idiot…” He muttered, hands splayed across his face as he contemplated the possibilities. He couldn’t get into his room without his key, or his identification; and even if he somehow managed to convince the front desk to let him in, it wasn’t safe - Not with a killer in possession of his key. Fortunately, he hadn’t been enough of a moron to lose his phone as well, and with mild trepidation, he dialled one of the numbers in his contacts. This wasn’t going to go well.

He heard the dial tone, and then -

“The fuck do you want? It’s fuckin’... one in the morning, Gav. Did they kick you offa that shoot, or whatever?”

“Geoff, I’ve had a hell of a night, and I’m locked out of my _shitting_ hotel room. You’re not going to believe this story, but… I need you to come get me.”

He heard a groan on the other line, but knew well enough that Geoff would do so - Even if it was an hour or so drive. “Man, I was havin’ this really awesome sex dream, and--”

“Geoff, please.”

The chatting on the other line came to an end, and then Gavin heard Geoff sigh. “...Fine. You sound like you’re in dire straights, dude. Text me the address, I’ll be there in a while.”

“Thanks, Geoff.”

~

Ryan had not intended on getting caught that night. Feeding was an inconvenient and messy part of his lifestyle, but he’d never been so sloppy in the execution. Leave it to a gangly disaster of a British boy to catch him in the act; and proceed to make conversation with him as though there wasn’t a bloody body between them.

He could deal with the police, should the boy choose to call them; that was a mess he’d have to deal with later. First and foremost was the body. As he stooped down to pick it up (planning on dumping it in the ravine several miles out of town), when his sharp gaze was drawn to a lump of brown fabric on the ground. Was that… a wallet?

Had the British kid actually managed to leave his wallet here? Ryan snorted, hardly believing the misfortune the poor kid was having that night, and he snatched it up.

“Gavin Free, hmm?” He mused aloud, eyeing the ID card with mild intrigue. He’d have to take care of the boy eventually, but for now, he’d give him the night to wallow in fear and debate over the right course of action.

_Gavin Free… A nice name. I’ll inevitably be seeing more of you._


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey whaddup, i finally wrote an actual outline for this story, so expect updates every two-four days!

The wait for Geoff had to have been the worst hour and eighteen minutes of his life. Gavin had settled himself in the lobby, jumping at every sign of movement. He must have given the doorman a reason to be suspicious - a jumpy, scrawny man sitting in the lobby at near two in the morning must have screamed drug addict to anyone who caught a glimpse.

It wasn’t his fault that intense fear and crippling paranoia made him look suspect. He’d just witnessed a murder, after all, and that was enough to make any man look insane. In the moment, Gavin hadn’t realized the extent to how bloody messed up the situation had been. Mostly, he’d been worried about saving his own skin and getting the hell out of dodge. But the more he thought about it, the more Gavin realized that he’d narrowly avoided death, and he’d witnessed the horrifying work of a man who had surely killed before.

Which is why he flinched every time he heard footsteps above him, or saw the flashing lights of a car on the road outside. The logical thing to do would be to call the police, and let them deal with the killer on the loose. Except that the killer had his personal information, and the feds didn’t have the best track record for being quick to catch the bad guy, and Gavin was so hyped up on adrenaline that his thoughts were all mush.

When Geoff finally pulled up outside, Gavin all but sprinted into the vehicle, catching his sweater in the door as he slammed it shut. So much for playing it cool, then.

“Don’t you have any shit?” Geoff asked, offering the Brit a quirked brow above those tired eyes, but it was better than what Gavin expected. He’d been fully prepared to climb into the car and be berated for a good half an hour for waking me up from a killer dream, dude -- and its that word, killer, ingrained in his head that sends Gavin reeling.

“No, it was only one night, and I didn’t feel the need to bring much. The cameras all belong to the movie crew, anyway, and the shoots over now, Geoff, and we just need to get the _hell_ out of here.” Gavin spoke too quickly, eyes scanning the surrounding parking lot even as Geoff peeled out.

“Dude, what happened? You look like a ghost tried to buttfuck you.”

Gavin hesitated, mouth hanging open halfway around a word. Dragging Geoff into this mess might not have been fair to the man who’d driven to an entirely different town just to pick up his sorry arse; but he needed to explain his sudden demand for rescue. With a heavy sigh, Gavin turned to offer Geoff his most serious expression.

“You’re not going to believe a word I say, but its true, Geoff, I swear. I saw a man sucking a woman out, and-”

“People fuck in the streets all the time, Gav, don’t tell me you’re scared of a naked lady.” 

“No, Geoff, not sucking like sex, sucking like -- Like a vampire. He was drinking her blood, and it was flippin’ disgusting. She was properly dead. And he said he could kill me next if he wanted, but he wasn’t going to, and then I ran like the damn wind.”

Geoff went silent for several long seconds, the only noise coming from the hum of the car, and the nervous tapping of Gavin’s foot on the floor. Finally, Geoff spoke with a stern, oddly quiet voice that made the Brit feel even worse about the entire situation.

“Did you call the police?”

“Do you think I’d be in your car now, if I had?”

_“You didn’t call the fucking police, Gavin?”_ Geoff exploded, hand coming off the steering wheel to smack his passenger upside the head. “I don’t know how they do it in England, but here in America we fucking call the police when we see someone committing first degree murder!”

Gavin flinched, not at all surprised by Geoff’s anger. He wasn’t bloody stupid, he knew what he should have done. But given the circumstances of his own personal safety, Gavin had had no choice but to consider his options first.

“I know that, Geoff, I’m not an idiot, am I? He’s... got my wallet. I don’t want to call the police, because I think he might actually hunt me down and drink my blood, too. I like my gushy bits on the inside!”

Geoff opened his mouth to retort, bit his lip, and changed his mind. Instead, he spoke a tad more soft and tried something else. “So, you crash at my place tonight and call the police in the morning. At least then they’ll be looking for this guy, and you might get an armed guard or something to look after you until he’s caught. Dude, they might even put you in the witness protection program!”

Gavin didn’t find Geoff’s joke very funny, and he opted to look out his window instead of humour that thought at all. “It was awful and I think I might have offended him. I pissed off a vampire serial killer, oh god.”

“How the fuck did you manage to do that, Gav?”

“I told him being a murderer wasn’t all that impressive.”

“Seriously? Only you would manage to find a psycho killer and get on his shitlist for something different than being a potential target. Dude, all I did tonight was watch Jeopardy and pass out at nine.”

“Geoff, this isn’t a joke!”

~

No matter how many times Ryan did it, disposing of a body didn’t get any easier. He’d mastered the art of stealth (or so he thought he had, until the British punk had shown up and put a dent in his ego), but the cleanup didn’t get any less messy, and the exertion of lugging a body out to Swift Creek didn’t get any less frustrating.

With one strong heave, the body toppled over the edge of the crevasse, tumbling down the cliffside until it landed in the fast moving river below. It might wash up downstream, another town over, but the cops would never find where it had come from before Ryan was the hell out of dodge. 

He stepped back, running a hand through his hair with a heavy sigh. There was still blood on his shirt and staining his teeth, and he couldn’t wait to get home and take a nice, hot shower. It had been several long hours since he’d made the kill, and the sun was due to rise in less than sixty minutes. The cleanup had taken too long this time, and Ryan cursed himself for getting sloppy. The British kid had really thrown him for a loop.

As he’d fled the scene with body in tow, his mind had been on the damn voyeur and his stupid mouth that had somehow managed to poke fun at Ryan’s exploits, despite the obvious fear in his eyes. He had half a mind to be impressed, if it weren’t for the very real possibility that he’d have to skip town again if the kid squealed. Ryan had the fortune of producing very little DNA that could be linked back to him, even if he were in the system - but that luck went to waste the second witnesses were involved.

Being a vampire was a fucking waste.

Ryan wished that the package had come with what all the teen movies said; eternal beauty, immortality, superhuman abilities, and the inexplicable collection of equally stunning mates to spend the rest of his life with. Instead, he got a lack of appetite for the food he had once loved, a crippling bloodlust that came about every few weeks, and cleanup duty that was as messy as it was inconvenient.

Sure, his wounds were always superficial, and the adrenaline from a kill was a hard high to beat. And maybe he hadn’t aged a day in twenty four years. But the cons far outweighed the pros as far as Ryan was concerned.

He’d taken a little detour on his way home, stopping a few blocks down from the scene of his kill to listen for sirens. Enhanced hearing had also been part of the vampire-package, but all that meant was he got to hear his neighbours having sex three floors up, and the man mowing his lawn across the street scared the everliving crap out of him every two weeks like clockwork.

To his surprise, the streets were deafeningly quiet; which meant the kid hadn’t called the cops. Either he was afraid of what might happen if he did, or this Gavin fellow didn’t care enough to bother. Either way, it was less of a headache for Ryan in the meantime, and with a significantly lighter heart, he made the drive home.

By the time the sun had risen, Ryan had disposed of his bloody clothing, taken a hot shower, and settled onto his mattress with Gavin Free’s wallet in hand. He perused through the cards inside, chewing his lip as he considered another course of action. Realistically, the smartest thing to do would be to ignore the problem altogether, hoping that his witness would forget the whole thing. Worse came to worst, he had his escape plan. He wouldn’t have to deal with the kid at all, if he was willing to think on his feet.

Or he could instill the fear of God himself into the Brit and ensure his silence for good.

Yeah -- that sounded like a lot more fun.

~ 

Gavin hadn’t slept a wink, huddled on the sofa in Geoff’s living room with his eyes darting from front door to window, to front door again. By the time they’d gotten back to his place, the sunrise had only been a few hours off, and now it was shining directly into his eyes. As the minutes ticked on, Gavin had tried to convince himself that he was safe; that the chances of being found were slim. Even if the killer had already ransacked his apartment, there were no clues that would point him to Geoff’s home.

Still, his body was too tense and his mind too charged up to even attempt sleep. At one point, he’d attempted to turn the Xbox on and play some games to keep his hands busy; but they turned out to be too jittery, and after his twelfth consecutive defeat in Halo, Gavin had tossed the controller aside with a huff.

By the time Geoff was awake and functioning, Gavin had almost managed to fall asleep. He was jarred to full consciousness by his friend’s loud groaning as he thundered down the stairs, grumbling to himself about needing a cup of coffee. 

Gavin didn’t have the energy to be angry, silently thankful that he hadn’t fallen asleep and let his guard down. He watched quietly as Geoff buggered about with the coffee machine, contemplating how best to bring up the current situation, when -

“You look like shit, dude.”

Gavin gave a wheezy laugh, rising clumsily to his feet to help himself to a mug out of Geoff’s cupboard. “Yeah? I guess witnessing a bloody murder isn’t part of my normal beauty regime. S’that dark roast?”

Geoff frowned, running a hand over his own tired features. “Are you gonna call the cops, then? You’ve had some time to think about it. I hope you’ve gotten it through your idiot British brain that you can’t fuckin’ leave this alone. Someone died, and it’s your responsibility to fix it and shit.”

Gavin worried his lip between his teeth, opting out of meeting Geoff’s stern gaze by snatching up the coffee pot to pour himself a cup of joe. “I… Guess I’ll have to. I dunno, Geoff, it just doesn’t feel safe. He’ll know it was me. Aren’t serial killers good at hunting people down?”

“Yeah, idiot, and he’ll continue to do that exact fuckin’ thing if you don’t call the _god damn cops,_ Gavin. You’re waiting too long, he could be halfway to fucking China before the cops get their asses in gear. You’ve gotta do it. You don’t have a choice.”

Gavin sighed, sipping his coffee-- promptly cursing when it burnt his tongue. “Fine. Can we swing by my flat, first? Just to grab a few things. I want to get in there before he does.”

Geoff didn’t look happy about that, but he nodded begrudgingly. “Yeah, sure. Lemme finish my coffee, and take a dump, and then we can go. Should I bring my gun?”

Gavin’s eyes bulged out of his head, and Geoff snickered. “You’re the one jumping out of your own skin, so I figured I’d offer. I won’t bring a gun, but we’ve gotta be careful. See you in twenty.”

~

Gavin thought it’d be better if Geoff stayed in the car, just in case the freak was watching. Better not to blow his only safe-house, after all. He had Geoff on the phone though, as a precaution, but the walk up into his flat was the most nerve-wracking three minutes of his life. He’d fumbled with the keys, ignoring Geoff’s laughter on the other line at the sound of metal clinking against the floor.

Gavin whirled around his flat in a hurry, knocking over bottles and throwing unnecessary clothing out of the way. He shoved the essentials into his bag, packed up his laptop, and his phone charger. He felt as though someone were breathing down his neck, the hairs standing on end. He pushed the feeling aside; all he needed now was some batteries from the kitchen for his camera, and he’d be all set.

He rummaged through drawers, cursing under his breath as he struggled to find those blasted double A’s. Geoff was ranting about some stupid pedestrians on the road, urging Gavin to hurry the fuck up. Gavin breathed a nervous laugh at his friend’s complaining, whirling around to leave with batteries in hand, and---

“It’s nice to see you again, Gavin Free.”

His phone clattered to the ground, the front door closing shut behind the killer.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting into the meat of the story, guys! I hope you enjoy it.

Geoff was going to kill Gavin.  


Even if the fucking killer got to him first, Geoff would march up to whatever deity was keeping Gavin’s ass on lockdown in the afterlife, force him to bring the idiot back to life, just so Geoff could kill him all over again. 

He heard the phone hit the ground, the resounding echo forcing Geoff to recoil. When he put the phone back to his ear, the line was dead, and Geoff’s heart stopped. He was scared of a lot of things, far more jumpy than he cared to admit. His friends liked to make fun of him for being a wimpy piece of shit, and he took it in stride because they weren’t exactly _wrong_. But the silence on the line made his blood run cold, and Geoff was actually going to kill Gavin for scaring him like that.

He sprinted from his car, an endless barrage of _fuck’s_ bursting from his mouth like gunfire. There was a very real possibility he was running into a deadly situation, and that he himself might become a target; and as Geoff struggled his way into the building, he had half a mind to wonder why he would do that for Gavin Free of all people. He would later blame the whole thing on his soft conscious and paternal instinct that reminded him that he was the only person on the goddamn planet who could look after Gav in this time of crisis.

It didn’t mean he wasn’t totally pissed, though. 

They should have called the police last night, like he’d suggested. Geoff had only let it slide, because Gavin had seemed obviously more shaken that he was verbally letting on, and Geoff didn’t want to cause any extra panic. But fuck, now he was running up the stairs, quite possibly to his fucking _doom_ , and Geoff knew he deserved more credit for his amazing intuition.

Also, why did Gavin have to live on the _fifth_ floor? 

By the time Geoff reached the top, he was wheezing, and if Gavin was perfectly fine in his apartment, he was going to strangle the British idiot for making him exercise on short notice. He tried the doorknob first, but when that didn’t work, Geoff opted for the loud approach.

“Gav? You alright in there? Open this fuckin’ door right now, and I’ll buy you a god damn cake. Gavin, bud, I _mean_ it.” He punctuated every other word with a loud bang of his fist against the door. He heard commotion in the apartment behind him, but hardly cared if they thought he was obnoxious.

He banged on the door several more times, before deciding the wait was far too long. He slammed his shoulder once, twice, a third time against it, and reeled back for a fourth when the door flew open to reveal a disheveled but otherwise unharmed and very much alone Gavin Free.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Geoff demanded around ragged breaths, rubbing his shoulder in annoyance.

“Sorry…” Gavin responded, sheepishly holding up his duffel bag. “I thought my TV was a person, must’ve been the paranoia. I was going to call you back, but I looked out the window and you weren’t in your car. Figured you were coming up.”

Geoff stared at the Brit for several long moments, eyes narrowed in disbelief. He scanned the apartment behind Gavin suspiciously, but with nothing out of place, he couldn’t exactly prove that Gavin was lying. With a sigh, Geoff nodded and motioned for Gavin to get the fuck out and hurry up. “‘Kay. I can’t believe I ran for your sorry ass.”

“My bad, Geoff. Thanks, though.”

Despite Gavin’s cheeky grin, Geoff had a sneaking suspicion that there was something he was leaving out; but he chose not to push it, making his way to the elevator instead of the stairs this time.

~

Gavin was going to have a bloody heart attack before this man could even attempt to suck his blood out. His eyes were wide, wild, darting around the room for anything to get his hands on. In a clumsy reach, Gavin managed to snatch a knife from the block and hold it out to defend himself against the man who’d managed to sneak into his apartment.

“No- No, don’t do that, for the love of God, don’t -- _agh_. I’m not here to hurt you. Which… I guess might be hard to believe, but its true, and if you just put the knife away we can talk this out like men. Its really all just a big misunderstanding. Here, I brought you your wallet back.”

Gavin spluttered as the man tossed his wallet at him, brandishing the knife dangerously. He wasn’t dumb enough to let down his guard to catch it, and it fell uselessly to the floor. “You what? I saw you kill someone, you -- _What’s to misunderstand?_ Get out, my friend is going to know what happened here, and he’ll call the police! I-I mean it.”

The other man held up his hands, like he was giving surrender, but Gavin didn’t buy it for a second. “I know, it seems all kinds of fucked up, but I’m not a serial killer, or a psychopath, or whatever _other_ things might be going through your head. My name is Ryan Haywood, and I’m a vampire.”

Gavin blinked, gaze unfocused. His heart was still racing in his chest, breath coming in ragged pants, and he nearly jumped out of his own skin when he heard Geoff yelling on the other side of his door. Haywood looked surprised, but didn’t stop there.

“I know that that sounds pretty crazy, too. But I don’t want to kill you, and I don’t think you want to kill me. My threats before were just appearance, you know? Please - Let me explain myself. You haven’t called the police yet, so I’m holding out a little bit of hope, here. Harrington’s Bar, on the south side of town. Meet me there tonight, and I’ll explain it all. If it’s the police instead of you, I guess I’ll have my answer. But you won’t have yours.”

Gavin could only watch as Haywood made his way to the window, climbing out onto the fire escape with little complaint from him. Geoff’s banging was getting incessantly louder, so Gavin tucked the knife away and tried to compose himself before opening the door.

_What the Christ just happened?_

~

Gavin knew Geoff didn’t believe him.

Quite frankly, Gavin wasn’t sure why he’d lied about the whole thing. Maybe he wanted to keep Geoff safe; or maybe, Ryan Haywood had gotten into his head. 

He’d always been curious by nature. He was infamous for asking his friends a plethora of hypothetical questions, or staying up until three in the morning watching documentaries he stumbled onto on Netflix. He had always wanted to know why, not just what, and that mentality was starting to bite him in the arse.

_I’ll have my answer. But you won’t have yours._  He was right, after all. Even if Gavin did as Geoff had suggested, and called the police; the nightmare would come to an end, but his own morbid curiosity and desire to know why would plague him for the rest of time. Sure, he was playing the role of judge, jury, and executioner all on his own, and that wasn’t fair. But people didn’t just suck blood for any reason - they had to have something going on in their head that made them act that way. He found the vampire gag to be a bit tacky, but if this Ryan Haywood thought that he was one, maybe he needed something other than solitary confinement.

The most pressing question of all was why he _hadn’t_ killed Gavin.

Haywood had made some pretty nasty threats the first night they met, but had made no move against him. Even with Gavin helpless in his own apartment (anyone would look at Gavin wielding a knife and deem him still in need of assistance), Haywood had only wanted to talk. Sure, Gavin was still terrified, but the whole situation was chalking up to be something far more complicated, and he needed to know. It was eating him up inside.

His biggest problem was Geoff.

While he hadn’t said anything to Gavin about earlier, he was still watching him suspiciously. They’d had a serious argument in the car on the way home about the state of Gavin’s police calling, but he’d made a point about the location of the kill, the likelihood of someone else finding the body, and that it was better if Gavin stayed out of it for his own good.

Geoff wasn’t impressed, but Gavin had been far too adamant. Eventually, he’d deemed it a losing battle, but that hadn’t helped in the state of getting him to back off. As the day went on, Gavin came closer to deciding that he would humour a vampire serial killer over a pint ( _bollocks_ , he was insane, wasn’t he?), if only he could get past Geoff.

As it turned out, it hadn’t been as hard as he’d anticipated. One fake phone call later, and Gavin had his out. 

“I’m going for drinks with Jeremy.” Gavin declared, shoving his newfound wallet into his back pocket with as fierce a look as he could manage when Geoff glanced up from his book. His smile was forced, because internally, Gavin was going a bit mental over his completely bloody insane idea to oblige a murderer.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea, dude?”

Gavin laughed, a little strained but generally convincing. “Yeah, Geoff, it’s fine. No need to worry about me. Besides, Lil J’s tough enough to take anyone on, if it comes to that.”

Geoff looked skeptical, but could find no retort strong enough to keep Gavin in line, so he heaved a sigh and turned back to his book. “Okay, man. Just -- Call me if you need something.”

Gavin was touched by his friend’s kindness, and felt more than a little guilty that he was lying to him. But he had questions he wanted answered, and he was going to a relatively popular bar with enough pairs of eyes to protect him. What Geoff didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

He departed with a salute, before hurrying out the door.

~

The cab ride to the bar felt far too long and much too short all at once, and Gavin might have marveled at the unique passing of time if he weren’t so bloody nervous. He’d started to wonder if this was more than a mistake and a half, and that perhaps he should have just turned around and called the police like a normal human being. Instead, he fidgeted with his phone in the backseat, and tried to keep up idle conversation with his cab driver despite the jitters that made his voice shake.

Stepping out of the cab and into the bar, was the toughest thing Gavin had ever done in his entire life. His fingers were shaking, his heart racing, his head pounding. With a deep breath, he pushed open the front door and marched inside with all the confidence he could muster.

Finding Haywood was easier than he’d expected, the man lounging in a booth in casual attire, sipping from a glass of dark liquid. Gavin thought the scene was rather obscure, not at all befitting a murderer. He appreciated the publicity of the booth, though, and it was enough to keep his legs moving.

Haywood glanced up as Gavin approached, a faint smirk accompanied by a contrasting surprised quirk of his brow. Gavin clenched his fists, slid into the booth, and glared at the other man despite the sound of his own pulse in his ears. 

“Glad you could make it. I don’t hear sirens, so I’ll take that as a sign.” Haywood said softly, placing his glass back on the table with a clink. The casual tone with which he spoke infuriated Gavin, and gave him the fire he needed to spit back.

“You have five _smegging_ minutes. I want to know what your side of the story is, I want to know why you killed someone, and why you think you’re a bloody vampire. I want to know, so I can decide whether to call the cops _now_ , or alert those thugs over there instead.”

Haywood nodded, expression surprisingly calm for someone being threatened - even if it was by a lanky British bloke with pupils blown wide in fear. “Sounds fair enough. Let’s start with the most prevalent bit, yeah? I _am_ a vampire. It’s a part of me as much as that stupid British accent is a part of you.”

Gavin scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re sick, then, is that it? You’re mental, and you think you’re a vampire, so you kill people for their blood. You need help, vampires don’t exist, and that’s not an excuse for _murder!_ ”

Haywood flinched as Gavin’s voice grew louder, his hand rising to get him to quiet down. “Yeah, I know that sounds nuts. But I’m not a murderer - Not by choice. What you saw was… I got sloppy, things got messy, and I’m sorry you witnessed it. But its the truth. I can’t control this, and I didn’t ask for it.”

Gavin laughed again, this time a higher pitched noise that verged on hysterical, because Jesus Effin’ Christ, was he actually entertaining this at all? Coming here had obviously been a mistake, he should have known better. “I don’t -- I don’t want your bloody sob story, because you’ve made the whole thing up in your head. You actually think - I’m not going to buy into a vampire story, mate, you need to get -”

“I can prove it.” 

Gavin hesitated, head shaking slowly in disbelief. Haywood looked dead serious, but he supposed that happened when someone was living so deep inside a delusion. He opened his mouth again to protest, but Haywood was already reaching for the steak knife on the table. Gavin froze, eyes wide and fear spiking in his heart, and he needed to move, get out of the booth, because this man was really going to stab him right here in the bar and --

Haywood brought the knife to his palm and cut a decent sized slice into the skin there. Crimson oozed between his fingers, and it took every bit of willpower Gavin had not to retch. He could hardly force himself to look, but the other man spoke again and his words caught the Brit’s attention. 

“Give this five minutes, and the wound will have stopped bleeding. It’ll look like a week old cut, not a fresh, open wound. It’s because my body heals faster - It’s the immortality.”

Gavin’s eyes were wide, still disbelieving. When he said nothing, Ryan tried again. “That man over there? He’s ordering a gin and tonic. I know, because I can hear him clear as day. Watch -”

They watched in silence until several moments later, the waitress returned to the man across the bar with the exact drink Ryan had predicted. Gavin shook his head. “You got a lucky guess in. Anyone could have ordered a gin and tonic, that’s not --”

“Look.” Ryan ordered, dabbing at his bloody hand with a napkin until the crimson had cleared. Where a sizable wound should have been was a half sealed slice, one that looked several days old, not several minutes. Gavin felt his heart begin to race again, head shaking more firmly than before, but he couldn’t deny what was in front of him.

“It’s a trick…” Gavin mumbled, leaning as far back in his seat as he could, to get away from the other man. “It’s fake, prosthetics or something… You’re insane, you’re not a--”

“You’re not going to believe me because you don’t want to, not because it isn’t real. Look at my hand, look at the evidence, look at the fact that I haven’t killed you despite how easy you’ve made it. I don’t want to kill - I don’t like to kill. I do it because I don’t have a choice, because of this god damn curse. I can’t fix it because everyone does exactly what you’re doing. They don’t believe, and if they do, they want to hunt me down for it.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Gavin whispered, swallowing down the lump that formed in his throat. “Why do you… Why do you want me to know? I haven’t called the police yet, you don’t have any reason to believe…”

Haywood sighed, running a hand through his hair, suddenly looking exhausted. “Because I’m not a bad person, and I figure the person who witnessed that trainwreck should be able to compress some of the horror of it into bite-sized chunks.”

“You can’t be a… They’re not real. They can’t be real.”

Ryan shrugged. “It’d be nice if they weren’t. I’d be fifty six, if they weren’t. Physically, at least. I guess I’ve technically still be alive for fifty six years. I could be married and have kids, but that’s hard to do when you’re struck with uncontrollable bloodlust every few weeks. I know it seems impossible. Sometimes it still feels impossible. But I can’t control it, or deny it, and you might actually be a lot safer knowing that we’re out there.”

Gavin swallowed. “What? So I can wear garlic and carry a bloody stake around with me? That sounds ridiculous. This all sounds ridiculous.”

Ryan flashed a smile, and Gavin could have sworn his canines looked sharper than normal - But that could have easily been a part of the psychotic delusion, where he’d worn down his own teeth to resemble a vampire… Couldn’t it? Maybe Gavin was just reading into it too much.

“How do you think it feels, walking around being something that people think _sparkles?_ Pretty fucking stupid.” Ryan asked, laughing to himself although it sounded bitter. “The garlic thing isn’t true, but a good stake to the heart would kill anyone.”

“You would kill anyone.” Gavin retorted. “Even if this is true… You still kill people. I don’t care what the reason is, that’s still **murder**. You don’t seriously expect me to just forget that, do you?”

Ryan shook his head, expertly hiding his own grimace. “No. You’re right, after all. It’s still murder. But I guess this is me saying you don’t have to worry about me exacting any revenge. I don’t kill in cold blood, and I don’t kill because it’s fun. I’m a hunter. I do what I can to stay alive.”

When Gavin didn’t say anything, Ryan pulled out a piece of paper from one pocket, and a pen from another, scribbling a set of digits down that Gavin quickly realized were a phone number.

“Here. I know you’re probably confused as all hell, and you need some time to mull it over. But if you need to know more… If you call the police, I guess I can’t say I don’t blame you, but I’ll be skipping town before they can find me, and it’ll be for naught. I wish I had more proof, but sadly, being a vampire isn’t exactly all its cracked up to be.”

Gavin scrambled from the booth, eyes wide and confused. He stared at Ryan for several long moments, unsure of what to say. The entire situation had gone tits up, and he wasn’t sure what to think or believe. Finally, he offered the other man a nod, snatched up the paper, and hurried from the bar without another word.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Jeremy makes an appearance, and someone gets really drunk. Have fun with this, guys!

Ryan wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting.  


He knew that his incredibly ludicrous plan had been a long shot, forming a list of possible outcomes in his head until he’d watched Gavin Free flee the bar. The first option had been the police; it was the most sensible solution for any normal man, but the slow reaction time had given Ryan hope. He was grateful that he hadn’t had to pack up and leave again, but it meant that the clearer options were slowly being crossed off.

The second had been blind hatred. Gavin had not seemed entirely angry, although Ryan also assumed that the Brit didn’t have much of a hateful bone in his body, from the few minutes they’d spent talking. The third was cool hostility, bribery, and manipulation to test and play at how much of a non-killer he really was.

What Ryan hadn’t anticipated was the cold shoulder.

He knew that it would take Gavin time to process all of the information, and that he likely wouldn’t hear from him at all for a few days. But days turned into weeks, and after twenty long days of no contact, Ryan was beginning to question his choices more so than he already had in the days previous.

Seriously - What kind of childlike _dickhead_ cut off all contact after all that had happened. In all his years, and all the times he’d foolishly tried to let someone in on his lifestyle, not once had anyone been catty enough to ignore him without a big blowout first. It was getting on Ryan’s nerves, and he wished he could just track Gavin down and confront him. But intruding on Gavin’s life would only do the opposite in gaining his trust, so Ryan succumbed himself to a tense game of waiting in frustration.

Ryan hadn’t told someone in eight years. He hadn’t told someone because of what happened eight years ago; the discovery, the explosion of rage, the fear, and then -- the running. He’d had no choice but to up and leave, horrified by the disgust he’d caused in his girlfriend’s eyes. Since then, he’d always considered the best option to be silence and seclusion.

But something about Gavin Free had stuck, the stupid taunting and the reluctance to just turn him over ingrained in his head on a loop. The Brit was obviously horrified by the entire situation, but there was something else, something Ryan had clung to, something he hadn’t seen in years. Beneath all the disgusted looks and gulps of fear (something Ryan was used to) had been a layer of curiosity. And that was more than he’d gotten a taste of in decades.

Ryan needed Gavin to know, to understand, and he wasn’t even sure where the strength of his need had come from. He was desperate, and impatient, and just really goddamn lonely. 

And so he waited.

~

Gavin was losing his mind.

After his meeting with Ryan, his world had done a complete one-eighty. Geoff was concerned by the entire situation, but seemed wary of bringing it up with Gavin. He dropped subtle hints, wondering what Gavin was going to do - He couldn’t stay with Geoff forever, and if his apartment wasn’t safe, what then? But Gavin was an expert at deflection, and promised Geoff that things were being worked out.

Things were most certainly not being worked.

His thoughts were plagued by this sudden new reality he was living in; a world where vampires might exist, and serial killers could be surprisingly friendly, and that someone as simple as Gavin Free could end up in the middle of it all. He wasn’t sure what to think, and the more he thought, the more he panicked. The problem was that he was being forced to think about the situation at all, to consider the possibilities and make a decision from there.

And the worst was that he was starting to believe it. Belief was conditional, though, for his own sanity. Maybe Ryan Haywood was the anomaly, a freak of nature and the only one of his kind. He could handle one strange being, one person with a curse found only in young adult novels and horror stories. His thoughts strayed to something else Ryan had said, _you might be a lot safer knowing we’re out there._

No. One vampire. He could stomach _one_ vampire. Start there, Gavin.

The next issue was his apartment. While some of his concerns had been quelled, Gavin still wasn’t sure just how safe he’d be on his own. Maybe Ryan insisted that there was no need to worry about him, but Gav figured it was smart to wait before trusting the words of a deadly killer. Maybe he could get some new deadbolts, or a machete, or a guard dog. That would put some of his unease to rest.

He knew he should have called, if he wanted to sate the rest of his curiosity. Ryan had given him a number for a reason, and Gavin should have taken advantage of his new source of information. But the very thought of making any contact just yet made his stomach turn, so instead, he focused on other things; friends, work, vampire research. His film shoot had gone well, and he’d gotten some uncut footage back from the director. It might have only been a small indie film, but this was a step in the right direction. He wondered briefly if his career would come to an end if he got tangled up in the lives of vampires. That was another thought that put him off. 

So he’d called up Jeremy for real this time, asking him to go for drinks. Anything for a distraction. Anything to get away from Geoff’s silent judgement. Anything to forget about Ryan _bloody_ Haywood and his _shitting_ vampire curse.

~

“The movie’s gonna be ten times better with your slowmo, dude. How much are they paying you, anyway?” Jeremy was grinning at him over a rum and coke, cheeks tinged red as he trespassed into drunk territory. It was nice to see him, Gavin decided. It had been far too long, and Jeremy had a way of making people feel a lot lighter. Bouncier. _Good_.

“Its nothing spectacular, but its more than the last shoot. A much better film, too, from what I’ve seen. They hired a couple of bigger actors, who’ve actually been on TV. Should be pretty good - might make it into a few festivals, even!” Gavin nursed his own drink, shrugging softly. He hadn’t signed on to the shoot for the publicity of it all, even if it was a bonus. He just loved filming, and hoped to do it on a more professional scale some day.

Jeremy tilted his head thoughtfully, although there was a glazed look in his eye. Must’ve been the rum, Gavin decided, before a split second later Jeremy spoke again. “How long was the shoot? You look exhausted, Gav, must have taken a lot out of you, huh?”

That threw Gavin for a loop. The shoot had ended a few weeks ago now, a detail he’d conveniently left out. It was easy to mistake Jeremy for being a bit slow - the muscles, the occasional frat bro attitude, and his tendency to use like as often as he breathed. But in truth, Jeremy was incredibly observant, and Gavin shouldn’t have as been surprised by the comment as he was.

“Oh, uh…” Gavin started, rubbing sheepishly at the back of his head. “It sure did.”

Jeremy raised a brow, sipping noisily at his drink, and Gavin suddenly felt like he was being scrutinized with an all too careful eye. “You good, man? If you’re too tired, we can head home. I’m pretty fucking gone, so I don’t mind.”

Gavin had never wanted to tell the truth so bloody bad in his entire life. Jeremy was good, and kind, and understanding despite what appearances might suggest, and he was one of Gavin’s best friends. He would get it, he would help figure out what Gavin was supposed to do. He ached with the strength of it, words getting lost in his throat.

Instead, he flashed Jeremy a brilliant smile and ignored the urge like usual. “That might be a good idea. Lookit your little cheeks, all _red, ooooh Jeremy,_ you’re right buggered up, aren’t you?”

Jeremy rolled his eyes, but it was with good humour. He plopped a bill down on the table for the drinks, and moved to shrug on his jacket. Gavin was grateful that the conversation had moved away from him, because he wasn’t as strong as he wanted to be, and a slip-up like that could be costly.

“We should do this again soon, Gav. And you should get more drunk, ‘cause I’m doing too much of the work. You good to get home?”

Gavin nodded, already requesting an Uber. He smiled, waved at Jeremy as he left, and then instantly deflated. He shrugged off his jacket, and decided to order another drink to gather up the right amount of bravado needed to go through with his decision.

To _Haywood_ , 9:42 P.M:  
Clementine’s, on Government. Now. We need to talk.

~

Geoff wasn’t fucking stupid.

He knew there was something going on, because as much as Gavin tried to pretend that he was a ball of god damn sunshine, Geoff could see right through it. He didn’t know what exactly, but he had a pretty strong sense that it had to do with witnessing a fucking murder. Which, for the record, Geoff still thought he should have reported. Who doesn’t do that? Who sits on it and lets it eat them up inside?

Gavin fuckin’ Free, that’s who. And it was driving him crazy.

Geoff didn’t want to push it, because he knew that as much as he could be stubborn, Gavin had a surprising resilience himself. But the Brit’s stupid mind was set, and Geoff wouldn’t be the one to tattle; he just wished Gavin would. Staying at his place was fine, but Geoff couldn’t house him forever, and he had a sneaking suspicion that Gavin hadn’t thought of a solution just yet.

And now he’d gone out for drinks with Jeremy again, and while Geoff wasn’t the jealous type, he couldn’t help but wonder if Jeremy was in on it, too - and the thought left a bitter taste in his mouth. Was Gavin sharing information with him, because he trusted Dooley’s opinion more? It didn’t seem fair, considering all that Geoff had done already. He wanted inside Gavin’s head, so that he could stop fuckin’ worrying, but Gavin was a conniving little shit and his ideal end goal seemed pretty impossible right now.

He supposed he’d just have to give it time.

~

Gavin was far too many drinks in by the time Ryan showed up.

The more he drank, the more his brain muddled and the less he thought about the possible implications of his decision. He’d briefly considered that Ryan might not show up at all, but he’d washed away the thought with another Moscow Mule. Gavin had no game plan, no structure to follow, aside from the questions raging in his head and the bravado of a lot of alcohol. He was lost in thought, staring deep into his drink as though it could solve his problems, when the clearing of a throat roused him from his inner monologue.

“I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me.” Ryan said smoothly, sliding into the chair opposite him where Jeremy had been sitting an hour beforehand. “You seemed pretty urgent. Has something happened?”

Gavin stared at Ryan for a few seconds to long, eyes bloodshot. When he spoke, his words were slurred and slow, betraying his current state. “You’ve driven me bloody mental, is what’s happened. I can’t stop thinking about it all. You… You’re an _arse_ , Haywood, and I think you owe me a flippin’ drink for this.”

Ryan quirked a brow, devilishly so, and it pissed Gavin the ‘eff off. “You asked me here… To buy you a drink?”

Gavin spluttered, reaction time slow and sluggish. “No! Well, yeah, that’s part of it, but I’ve got questions, too, and you owe me for the mess you’ve made.”

Ryan nodded sagely, forgoing a response in favour of flagging down a waitress. Gavin was too busy fuming to hear what he said, but when he turned back around, the git was _smiling_.

“What do you want to know?” He asked finally, offering Gavin a casual shrug as though to say, ‘I’m an open book.’

“Well, I… For starters, I want to know how many bloody people you’ve killed. I’m trying to see both sides here, but its hard when I know people die, innit?”

Ryan paused, lips pursed in discomfort. Gavin couldn’t believe he’d struck a nerve so early, but the other man was quick to recover. “I don’t know. I used to keep count, but it… It did me more harm than good. I’ve lost track.”

The sorrow in Ryan’s voice might have been a trick of Gavin’s drunk ears, he decided. Losing track of how many people you’d killed sounded awful to him, but it led into his next question. “So… How long have you been one, then? A vampire, or whatever.”

Ryan gave a wry smile at that one, waiting until the waitress had set their drinks down before answering. “Twenty four years. I was turned in 1985, and the rest is history.”

Gavin’s eyes widened. “You’re thirty-two, then? You said last time you’d be fifty-six. Thirty-two’s not a bad age to be forever, is it?”

Ryan was surprised that Gavin had remembered that detail, given the glassy look in his eyes, but he decided not to comment on it. He supposed the shock of something so foreign would make anyone analyze all the details. “Its not awful. I’d rather this than twenty-two, or sixty-eight.”

Gavin tilted his head, expression thoughtful. “So.... You were alive in the seventies? You experienced disco, and the wars, and - You’re ancient.”

Ryan scoffed, taking a long sip of his drink before answering. “Fifty-six is not that old. You’re basically a child, anyway, so you don’t get to talk.”

“I’m twenty-four! That’s completely adult.”

Ryan laughed unabashedly, a sound that had Gavin spluttering all over again. He knew inwardly it was wrong to enjoy this, because odds are that the Brit would turn tail and run the second things got uncomfortable again. But it was nice to laugh, and forget, and enjoy himself for a few moments.

They went silent for a while, Gavin carefully sipping his drink and Ryan alternating between watching him or the people around them. When Gavin spoke again, his voice was far quieter than it had been previously, and there was a distant look in his eye.

“Do you have to kill them?”

Ryan did his best to hide the flinch, hoping that Gavin was drunk enough not to notice. His voice was tense when he responded, and hoped that that was also lost on the inebriated Brit. “What do you mean?”

Gavin frowned, shifting nervously in his seat. “Well, I mean - Do you have to suck all their blood out? Couldn’t you just… Take a little and go? Why do they have to die?”

Ryan supposed that was a fair question; one that he himself had wondered time and time again, after each and every kill. _Why did they have to die?_ “The curse, it’s… It’s not easily controlled. After I’ve fed, I feel pretty normal. But the desire builds, and becomes hard to ignore, and when I finally do taste the blood, its - I can’t control it. And I’m not satisfied until I’ve had every last drop.”

Gavin grimaced, slurping up the last of his drink with a disgusted look on his face. “Oh… So it’s like taking a piss.”

Ryan balked, brows high on his forehead in confusion. “I-- What?”

“You know! Like, when you really gotta piss, it’s hard to ignore. And once you start going, stopping is super difficult. Its like piss, but you’re sucking up instead of spewing out.”

Ryan stared at Gavin with a gaze so intense, it made the Brit shift uncomfortably in his seat. In truth, Ryan couldn’t believe how carefree the response was, disgusted but not horrified. Gavin had taken it so easily, and maybe that was just the alcohol talking, but Ryan had not experienced something so close to acceptance in decades. He clung to it like a lifeline, soaking it in for as long as he could before something terrible happened.

Finally, when Gavin looked as though he was ready to run out of the sheer discomfort of it all, Ryan laughed. It was hearty and good, and the relief that flooded across Gavin’s face only made him smile more.

“Yeah, sure. Its just like taking a piss, if you want to put it that way.”

They talked for a long while after that, Gavin getting progressively more drunk, asking Ryan a plethora of ridiculous vampire related questions that shouldn’t have been as funny as they were. Ryan obliged him each and every one, taking the obscurity of them in stride. Gavin grew increasingly more interested, words slurring together, but never losing his enthusiasm.

Finally, two in the morning rolled around and they were forced to pack up and leave. Ryan offered their server a kind smile, and paid off the whole tab, while Gavin struggled to get his jacket on. Ryan hadn’t realized the extent of the Brit’s intoxication, because he couldn’t stand without wobbling dangerously, and the look in his eyes was far away from there.

In a moment of poor judgement, Ryan reached a hand out to steady him. Gavin tensed, but did not push him away, so he took that as his chance to carefully lead Gavin out of the building and into his car.

“You can’t drive…” Gavin said in a moment of clarity, glaring down at the vehicle. 

“I’m not drunk.” Ryan said simply, carefully lowering Gavin into the passenger seat.

“But-- You were drinking.”

“Diet Coke. I don’t drink alcohol.”

Gavin looked like he was about to protest, but Ryan was already circling the vehicle to climb into the driver’s side. The Brit didn’t say anything else, on the verge of sleep in his seat - And didn’t say anything again until they pulled up outside his apartment, and Ryan was helping him out of the vehicle. “Wait - This is my place.”

Ryan frowned quizzically, guiding Gavin into the elevator. “Yeah, I’m taking you home. You’re very drunk.”

“I-- Okay.”

Ryan had to wait for Gavin to pull out his keys, but he managed to get him inside and into bed with his shoes off, and a glass of water on the night stand. Maybe he was pushing his limits, but he wasn’t an asshole, and leaving Gavin to suffer in his drunken state wasn’t in his nature. He turned to leave, when Gavin grabbed his wrist.

“You’re real.” He said firmly, before his eyes closed and his hand fell limp against the bed.

Ryan smiled, turned heel, and let himself out of the apartment, while Gavin dreamed of a smiling face with canines glinting.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is a little later than normal, but things are gonna start to get pretty real here, soon.

Gavin woke up to a lot of pounding.  


For a moment, he’d confused them as one, the throbbing inside of his skull moving in time with the pounding on his front door. When he had the clarity to realize that they were two separate things, and that there was also a loud yelling to be heard over the banging, Gavin’s stomach dropped. He took in his surroundings, and came to the conclusion that he was in his own apartment, and the time on the clock read _10:52a.m_. That banging was Geoff, surely.

He hurried from bed, despite how lethargic and right _buggered_ up he felt, swinging open the door with as apologetic a smile as he could manage. Geoff looked furious, and a little bit scared, but Gavin didn’t have time to explain before the other man was yelling again.

“What the fuck are you doing? Do you know what time it is? Do you know where you are, you fucking _moron!_ I called Jeremy this morning when you still hadn’t come home, and he said that he left at nine fuckin’ thirty, Gavin! No offense, but if you’re going to let me in on your secrets, it would be nice if you could fucking call if you’re not coming home. I thought you were dead and drained of blood in a ditch, dude!”

Gavin winced as his voice grew louder, his head throbbing terribly. He knew that Geoff had a point, but his hangover made him indignant, and he offered his friend a mild shrug. “Sorry, Geoff. I stayed for a few more drinks, had too many, and took an Uber home drunk. I’m fine, as you can see, so would you please stop yelling?”

That only succeeded in making Geoff more angry, and he pushed past Gavin into his apartment. His hands were flying wildly, face a nice shade of pink. “Listen, Gavin, I know that you’re convinced you’ve got all your shit figured out, but I’m privy to a little more information than the average guy, and I know that you’re in deep shit. You’ve been lying to me, and sneaking off, and not texting - and I’m not your fuckin’ mom, I don’t need to know all your shit, but I’m your friend, and I kinda thought you trusted me enough to let me in on this shit. Don’t leave me thinking you’re dead.”

Gavin frowned, picking at a loose thread on his shirt to avoid making eye contact with Geoff. He wanted to tell him, wanted to tell anyone, but knew that no one would really understand where he was coming from. He did trust Geoff, probably more than just about anyone, but he knew that the other man would blow it way out of proportion. Maybe it was for the best, though. As Gavin thought more about the previous night, the more he remembered; texting Ryan, the endless questions, the fact that he had most certainly driven Gavin home. He was in dangerous territory, messing around with a vampire, and he had let his guard down. Even if he wasn’t hurt, Geoff had a point.

“I’m real sorry, Geoff. I mean it. I… met up with someone last night, after Jeremy left.”

Geoff stopped his fuming, brow raised. “Yeah? Like, a date someone? Why didn’t you just _say so?_ ”

Gavin worried his lip between his teeth, still refusing to meet Geoff’s gaze. “Yeah… It went alright, I suppose, but I don’t know that its going to be anything serious.”

_That wasn’t exactly a lie, was it?_

“You want some coffee?” Gavin added, gesturing to his machine. Geoff looked taken aback, unsure if he should continue to be angry or give in.

“But… this is your apartment…”

“Yeah, well, we’re not about to be attacked in broad daylight with all these knives nearby, are we? C’mon, I’ll make some coffee and then we can head out. My head’s not right, I need a mug before we can go anywhere.”

Geoff huffed in annoyance, but plopped down on the sofa with a rather permanent sounding _oof_ , and pulled out his phone to play some games. Gavin set about the flat, preparing a pot of coffee. When that was set, and the sharp scent of coffee filled the air, he went to gather up his things, and make sure they were all still in place from the night before. His mind wandered again to what had happened, how Ryan had looked after him and gotten him home - but the thought was too strange, and he cursed himself for being so vulnerable, so he pushed it away.

When he came back into the kitchen, Geoff had already helped himself to a mug of coffee, sipping it with those tired eyes fixed on his phone. Gavin plopped his shit down on the counter; keys, wallet, spare change, phone. All of it was there, and he breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn’t lost any of it in his drunken state.

It was the sound of choking that dragged him out of his thoughts, and he looked at Geoff in concern. His friends’ eyes were wide, shock scrawled across his features, and he was zeroed in on Gavin’s wallet sitting on the counter. 

“That’s your wallet.”

For a moment, Gavin was confused, but then his own eyes widened, and -

“That’s your _wallet_. The fucking wallet you _lost_. Where the hell did you get that?”

Gavin really didn’t know how to respond. He couldn’t lie about it, say it was a new one; the thing was practically falling apart at the seams. He definitely couldn’t say that he had only lost his identification, because he’d had nothing to show for when Geoff had stopped for gas, the night he’d come to get him. In fact, Gavin had made it fairly clear that he’d left his wallet in the presence of a killer, and since he hadn’t called the police, he couldn’t chalk it up to them, either.

Geoff looked ready to blow.

“Geoff, I--”

“Has he been here? Has he fucking threatened you, Gavin? Has he come within a hundred fucking feet of you? You need to call the police, this is it, you can’t keep -”

“Geoff! It’s not like that, look, let me just -”

“No! You’re fucking around with something super dangerous, and I’ve always known you could be a bit stupid, but I didn’t think you had a fucking _death wish!_ ”

“Geoff!” Gavin’s voice was so firm, so loud, that Geoff fell silent. He was furious, breathing heavily, but he didn’t talk again. Gavin’s head throbbed horribly, but he held his ground. “Its not what you think. None of this is what you think. I’ve got this under control, I know what I’m doing, I don’t need you to bloody baby me. Ryan’s not--”

“Ryan? You’re on first name basis, now? Fucking great - You’re going to end up dead, or you’re going to start killing people, and you can’t fucking say I didn’t warn you. You’re psychotic, Gav, what are you doing? You don’t think that this is seriously going to end fine, right?”

Gavin knew how bad it sounded, how crazy he was, how dangerous it could be. He’d been warring with himself for weeks now, fighting his every instinct. But things were so far above Geoff’s head, and his own was aching with his hangover, and he didn’t have the energy to fight Geoff on it. His fists clenched, and Gavin pointed to the door. 

“Get out. I don’t wanna deal with you minging off while I’ve got this headache.”

“Gavin!” Geoff responded, exasperated. But Gavin’s expression didn’t change, a sort of ferocity in his eyes that Geoff hadn’t seen before. He spluttered for several more moments, before he huffed and stomped to the front door. “Keep yourself safe, you fuckwit.”

And then he left, slamming the door behind him. Gavin winced, sinking himself down on the couch with a weary sigh.

What _was_ he doing?

~

Ryan tried to keep himself busy.

Since his night out with Gavi, he’d been reconsidering his entire life, confused and dazed by the new developments. He knew that he was pushing his luck, invading Gavin’s life and forcing him to believe. He knew that it was unfair to let someone in on such a heavy secret. But Gavin had a bright sort of curiosity, one that had to have been a lifelong trait, because there was no way that drinking could make someone burn so forcefully, with so much heat and desire to learn. And Ryan found that he didn’t care about the consequences.

He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but Gavin was the first person who hadn’t looked ready to vomit or run at the sight of him. He knew that there were still a thousand steps to be made, and that Gavin wasn’t just going to forget that the truth of the situation was that Ryan had killed, and would continue to kill. But he wanted for someone to understand so badly, that he was beginning to frighten himself.

Ryan figured he wouldn’t get a text any time soon, especially considering how far he’d overstepped the night before. He hoped that that wasn’t a dealbreaker, but he was fully prepared for Gavin’s anger.

He wasn’t expecting to get a text two days later.

From _Gavin_ , 1:13 P.M:  
Geoff knows I’ve seen you. Not sure what to do about that. My flat?

Ryan frowned down at his phone, brows furrowed in concern. In most situations, when a civilian discovered his identity, Ryan would skip town and disappear to avoid confrontation. He knew how to blend in, move without being seen, charm his way into a new life; but it wasn’t easy, and he didn’t enjoy it. And in truth, Ryan wasn’t quite ready to give up just yet.

He heaved a sigh, wondering when he’d allowed himself to be so easily controlled, before grabbing his lunch and signalling to reception that he was taking his lunch break.

~

Gavin was freaking out. 

Since he and Geoff had fought, the Brit hadn’t had a moment’s peace. He was terrified that Geoff would rat him out, that things would get even more complicated than they already were, or that Ryan might take matters into his own hands. He’d gone and _bollocksed_ it all up, and Gavin had far too active an imagination to deal with everything rationally.

He nearly jumped out of his own skin at the knocking at his door. With a deep breath to steady himself, Gavin scurried over to open it.

“You know, I have my own life to deal with. I can’t come running over every time you need something.” Despite the lack of seriousness in his tone, Gavin could tell that Ryan was worried about the situation at hand, and _bloody hell_ , when did he start to pick up on those cues? Had he seriously spent that much time around the other man, or was he just unusually perceptive that morning?

“You came, didn’t you?” Gavin retorted, quickly shutting the door behind Ryan. “I don’t know what to do. Geoff’s not an idiot, and he figured it out pretty damn fast, I tried to stop it but, sometimes you just can’t stop someone from jumping to conclusions. This has all gone tits up, and you’re going around being decent, so I can’t exactly condemn you to Geoff’s potential wrath, now can I?”

Ryan’s expression of concern quickly morphed into a satisfied smirk, one that Gavin found more than a little jarring. He opened his mouth to comment, but Ryan beat him to it. 

“I’m decent, huh? I’ll keep that in mind.” Gavin spluttered in annoyance, but Ryan pressed on. “All I can do is hope for the best. You need to talk to him, convince him things aren’t as dire as they seem. Which they _really_ aren’t.” 

Ryan raised a brow at Gavin, as if to further test the waters on the state of their relationship. Gavin was frowning, but he nodded his head, and that was enough for Ryan. _How had he come this far? Was he playing with fire, or was this some stroke of luck?_

“Besides,” Ryan continued. “He doesn’t really know what he’s playing with. I could scare some sense into him -” Gavin gasped, but the roll of Ryan’s eyes silenced him. “But that would do more harm than good. If you’re serious about keeping this under control, he’s a liability. You need to find some part of him that’s easy to control, or relate to, and use it. Welcome to the world of vampires, Gavin Fr--”

A loud knocking interrupted him, and both Gavin and Ryan met each others gaze with wide eyes. Gavin motioned towards the door, Ryan shook his head vehemently, and then --

“Hey, Gav, buddy - You in there? I know I freaked the fuck out the other day, and I’m sorry. I, uh… I wanna hear your explanation, I guess, is what I’m saying, and - Fuck, I hope you’re in there, dude.”

“Is that _him?_ ” Ryan hissed.

“Yes! Why didn’t you hear him coming?” Gavin spat back.

“I wasn’t paying attention!”

“I have to answer it! This could be the chance -”

“No, Gavin, not while I’m here, that’s recipe for disaster, I-- What are you doing?”

Gavin was opening the door before Ryan could stop him, and he was left standing in the middle of the kitchen as a tired, tattoo covered man stepped across the threshold and made eye contact. They stared at one another for several long, drawn out seconds, broken only by Gavin’s timid, yet hopeful, “Hey, Geoff.”

Another beat of silence. 

“Is this him?” Geoff asked, voice stone cold.

“Uhh…”

The next few seconds were a blur of destruction, one that Ryan ought to have seen coming, but he’d been far too thrown off by the entire god damn situation to even consider the possibility of being punched across the jaw by a heavily tattooed fist. He managed to stand his ground, head snapping painfully to the side, but Geoff was still moving forward. Ryan knew that none of the hits would bruise, but he didn’t like being attacked by anyone, no matter how deserving he might have been.

He smashed into the kitchen counter with Geoff’s fist tightened in his shirt, the other one poised to strike again. The other man looked furious, and Ryan could only focus on him, not Gavin’s horrified squawking in the background. 

“You must be Geoff.” Ryan said softly, gaze steely. The edge of the counter was digging uncomfortably into his back, and while Ryan could have easily overpowered the other man, he was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Who the fuck do you think you are, fucking around with Gav like this? I don’t know what kind of crusade you’re on, or if you think you’re fucking innocent or not, but you’re not gonna keep dragging Gav into this bullshit. You’re not a killer, huh? Is that what this is? I’ll bet you wanna kill me right now, so fucking try me, you worthless piece of shit--”

“Geoff!” Gavin’s exasperated cry echoed across the kitchen, but no one moved. Both men stared each other down, while a worried Brit tried to decipher the best way to get in between them. When Ryan deemed that Geoff had had his moment of bravado, he flipped their positions, easily grabbing hold of Geoff’s shirt to slam him into the counter opposite.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve, threatening me. Gavin’s a bit of a moron, but you’re ten times so if you thought this would work out for you. Now, here are the options - You mind your own god damn business, and leave yourself out of this equation, or we’re going to have a lot more problems than we already do. I’m not what you think I am, but I could be, if you keep trying to play the hero.”

“Ryan!” This time Gavin’s voice was far firmer, glaring at Ryan despite the quiver in his arms that betrayed his fear. It made Ryan’s heart sink, despite the admittedly delicious look of terror in Geoff’s eyes. He released the tattoo junkie with a huff, taking a hefty step back.

“Gav, listen--” Geoff began, but Gavin cut him off.

“No. Get out, Geoff. I appreciate your concern, but I can handle things for myself. Starting a bloody fight in my kitchen is not something I needed, alright? Get out.”

Geoff’s fear turned to fury, and he looked ready to argue - But one steely look from Ryan had him storming from the apartment for the second time in three days. The resounding silence was interrupted by the sound of Geoff stomping down the stairs, audible only to the vampire in the room.

“Gavin…” Ryan said softly, aware that his threats were not in line with his attempts at appearing somewhat civilized. “I didn’t mean any of that, I just wanted to make sure he-”

“You too.” Gavin responded, refusing to meet Ryan’s gaze. “You can leave. I’m done with all this - Vampires, fighting, the tension. I don’t want to deal with it right now. Go.”

Ryan wanted to protest, but the look of determination on Gavin’s face put him in his place. He heaved a sigh, and let himself out of the apartment despite his desire to do the exact opposite. The slam of the door was enough to cover the sound of Gavin’s fist colliding with the countertop.

**Author's Note:**

> This will definitely have more parts to come! Hope you all like it.


End file.
